The moon stares down at us silently,
yet we cannot tell if it is in judgement or adoration.
Her hollow eyes and full lips make up an illuminate silhouette.
Your glowing porcelain mirrors her China cabinet.
Maybe she is jealous;
your off-white shine is holding my attention
more than hers ever has.
Maybe it is narcissistic of me to assume
that Mrs. Moon craves my affection.
Maybe it was wise of me to realize that your mahogany shutters contrasted against the dark green earth in your backyard
are encasing me with a sense of safety that I have not recently felt
and I should clutch on to that warmth and comfort
as tightly as your right hand clutches onto the fistful of my hair
or the strength your left arm carries
as it winds protectively around my waist.

never has a smile
influenced the rate of my heart's
eclectic beating
as much as yours.
never has a touch
sent shivers down my spine
and through the recesses
of my hungry soul
as much as yours.
never has a mind
articulated such emphatic musings
and solemn trepidations
and shot them into the sky
with passion and hope and trust
only for the arrow to come spiraling down
embedding itself
into the flesh of my chest.
do not pull that arrow out of the basket
that is my *****.
let it sink deeper
through my bones,
let it disappear into my arteries
and dissolve.
let it become one with my blood
and soak up the air
that you breathe into me.
i am thirsty
and you are the only water
i want to drink.

Ella Bella